Life of St Teresa of Jesus by Teresa of Avila (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📖

life was most pure.

2. My mother also was a woman of great goodness, and her life was

spent in great infirmities. She was singularly pure in all her

ways. Though possessing great beauty, yet was it never known

that she gave reason to suspect that she made any account

whatever of it; for, though she was only three-and-thirty years

of age when she died, her apparel was already that of a woman

advanced in years. She was very calm, and had great sense.

The sufferings she went through during her life were grievous,

her death most Christian. [1]

3. We were three sisters and nine brothers. [2] All, by the

mercy of God, resembled their parents in goodness except myself,

though I was the most cherished of my father. And, before I

began to offend God, I think he had some reason,—for I am filled

with sorrow whenever I think of the good desires with which our

Lord inspired me, and what a wretched use I made of them.

Besides, my brothers never in any way hindered me in the service

of God.

4. One of my brothers was nearly of my own age; [3] and he it was

whom I most loved, though I was very fond of them all, and they

of me. He and I used to read Lives of Saints together. When I

read of martyrdom undergone by the Saints for the love of God, it

struck me that the vision of God was very cheaply purchased; and

I had a great desire to die a martyr’s death,—not out of any

love of Him of which I was conscious, but that I might most

quickly attain to the fruition of those great joys of which I

read that they were reserved in Heaven; and I used to discuss

with my brother how we could become martyrs. We settled to go

together to the country of the Moors, [4] begging our way for the

love of God, that we might be there beheaded; [5] and our Lord, I

believe, had given us courage enough, even at so tender an age,

if we could have found the means to proceed; but our greatest

difficulty seemed to be our father and mother.

5. It astonished us greatly to find it said in what we were

reading that pain and bliss were everlasting. We happened very

often to talk about this; and we had a pleasure in repeating

frequently, “For ever, ever, ever.” Through the constant

uttering of these words, our Lord was pleased that I should

receive an abiding impression of the way of truth when I was yet

a child.

6. As soon as I saw it was impossible to go to any place where

people would put me to death for the sake of God, my brother and

I set about becoming hermits; and in an orchard belonging to the

house we contrived, as well as we could, to build hermitages, by

piling up small stones one on the other, which fell down

immediately; and so it came to pass that we found no means of

accomplishing our wish. Even now, I have a feeling of devotion

when I consider how God gave me in my early youth what I lost by

my own fault. I gave alms as I could—and I could but little.

I contrived to be alone, for the sake of saying my

prayers [6]—and they were many—especially the Rosary, to which

my mother had a great devotion, and had made us also in this like

herself. I used to delight exceedingly, when playing with other

children, in the building of monasteries, as if we were nuns; and

I think I wished to be a nun, though not so much as I did to be a

martyr or a hermit.

7. I remember that, when my mother died, [7] I was about twelve

years old—a little less. When I began to understand my loss, I

went in my affliction to an image of our Lady, [8] and with many

tears implored her to be my mother. I did this in my simplicity,

and I believe that it was of service to me; for I have by

experience found the royal Virgin help me whenever I recommended

myself to her; and at last she has brought me back to herself.

It distresses me now, when I think of, and reflect on, that which

kept me from being earnest in the good desires with which

I began.

8. O my Lord, since Thou art determined to save me—may it be the

pleasure of Thy Majesty to effect it!—and to bestow upon me so

many graces, why has it not been Thy pleasure also—not for my

advantage, but for Thy greater honour—that this habitation,

wherein Thou hast continually to dwell, should not have

contracted so much defilement? It distresses me even to say

this, O my Lord, because I know the fault is all my own, seeing

that Thou hast left nothing undone to make me, even from my

youth, wholly Thine. When I would complain of my parents, I

cannot do it; for I saw nothing in them but all good, and

carefulness for my welfare. Then, growing up, I began to

discover the natural gifts which our Lord had given me—they were

said to be many; and, when I should have given Him thanks for

them, I made use of every one of them, as I shall now explain, to

offend Him.

1. See ch. xxxvii. § 1; where the Saint says that she saw them in

a vision both in Heaven.

2. Alfonso Sanchez de Cepeda, father of the Saint, married first

Catalina del Peso y Henao, and had three children—one daughter,

Maria de Cepeda, and two sons. After the death of Catalina, he

married Beatriz Davila y Ahumada, by whom he had nine

children—seven boys and two girls. The third of these, and the

eldest of the daughters, was the Saint, Doña Teresa Sanchez

Cepeda Davila y Ahumada. In the Monastery of the Incarnation,

where she was a professed nun for twenty-eight years, she was

known as Doña Teresa; but in the year 1563, when she left her

monastery for the new foundation of St. Joseph, of the Reform of

the Carmelites, she took for the first time the name of Teresa of

Jesus (De la Fuente). The Saint was born March 28, 1515, and

baptized on the 4th of April, in the church of St. John; on which

day Mass was said for the first time in the Monastery of the

Incarnation, where the Saint made her profession. Her godfather

was Vela Nuñez, and her godmother Doña Maria del Aguila.

The Bollandists and Father Bouix say that she was baptized on the

very day of her birth. But the testimony of Doña Maria de Pinel,

a nun in the Monastery of the Incarnation, is clear: and Don

Vicente de La Fuente, quoting it, vol. i. p. 549, says that this

delay of baptism was nothing singular in those days, provided

there was no danger of death.

3. Rodrigo de Cepeda, four years older than the Saint, entered

the army, and, serving in South America, was drowned in the river

Plate, Rio de la Plata. St. Teresa always considered him a

martyr, because he died in defence of the Catholic faith (Ribera,

lib. i. ch. iii.). Before he sailed for the Indies, he made his

will, and left all his property to the Saint, his sister (Reforma

de los Descalços, vol. i. lib. i. ch. iii. § 4).

4. The Bollandists incline to believe that St. Teresa may not

have intended to quit Spain, because all the Moors were not at

that time driven out of the country. The Bull of the Saint’s

canonization, and the Lections of the Breviary, say that she left

her father’s house, ut in Africam trajiceret.

5. The two children set out on their strange journey—one of them

seven, the other eleven, years old—through the Adaja Gate; but

when they had crossed the bridge, they were met by one of their

uncles, who brought them back to their mother, who had already

sent through Avila in quest of them. Rodrigo, like Adam, excused

himself, and laid the blame on the woman (Ribera,

lib. i. ch. iii.). Francisco de Santa Maria, chronicler of the

Order, says that the uncle was Francisco Alvarez de Cepeda

(Reforma de los Descalços, lib. i. ch. v. § 4).

6. She was also marvellously touched by the story of the

Samaritan woman at the well, of whom there was a picture in her

room (Ribera, lib. i. ch. iv.). She speaks of this later on.

(See ch. xxx. § 24.)

7. The last will and testament of Doña Beatriz de Ahumada was

made November 24, 1528 and she may have died soon after.

If there be no mistake in the copy of that instrument, the Saint

must have been more than twelve years old at that time.

Don Vicente, in a note, says, with the Bollandists, that Doña

Beatriz died at the end of the year 1526, or in the beginning of

1527; but it is probable that, when he wrote that note, he had

not read the copy of the will, which he has printed in the first

volume of the Saint’s writings, p. 550.

8. Our Lady of Charity, in the church of the hospital where

the poor and pilgrims were received in Avila (Bouix).

Chapter II.

Early Impressions. Dangerous Books and Companions. The Saint Is

Placed in a Monastery.

1. What I shall now speak of was, I believe, the beginning of

great harm to me. I often think how wrong it is of parents not

to be very careful that their children should always, and in

every way, see only that which is good; for though my mother was,

as I have just said, so good herself, nevertheless I, when I came

to the use of reason, did not derive so much good from her as I

ought to have done—almost none at all; and the evil I learned

did me much harm. She was very fond of books of chivalry; but

this pastime did not hurt her so much as it hurt me, because she

never wasted her time on them; only we, her children, were left

at liberty to read them; and perhaps she did this to distract her

thoughts from her great sufferings, and occupy her children, that

they might not go astray in other ways. It annoyed my father so

much, that we had to be careful he never saw us. I contracted a

habit of reading these books; and this little fault which I

observed in my mother was the beginning of lukewarmness in my

good desires, and the occasion of my falling away in other

respects. I thought there was no harm in it when I wasted many

hours night and day in so vain an occupation, even when I kept it

a secret from my father. So completely was I mastered by this

passion, that I thought I could never be happy without a

new book.

2. I began to make much of dress, to wish to please others by my

appearance. I took pains with my hands and my hair, used

perfumes, and all vanities within my reach—and they were many,

for I was very much given to them. I had no evil intention,

because I never wished any one to offend God for me.

This fastidiousness of excessive neatness [1] lasted some years;

and so also did other practices, which I thought then were not at

all sinful; now, I see how wrong all this must have been.

3. I